Once, not that long ago, I couldn’t sleep with light in the darkness of my room. A pinprick of light was more than enough to pierce through my eyelids to keep me awake for hours.
These days I sleep through the soft, black light from my computer screen. Sometimes I wake up to the familiar creak of his wooden bed, but more often I hear nothing until morning, lost in my dreams. A year of electronic slumber parties and a summer of travel has made me an adaptable sleeper.
Tonight I sit in the pure darkness of my room, under my soft fur blanket, feeling like I’ve forgotten something. Tonight there’s no light from my screen, so heavy breath to wake me. My fan blows to block out the sounds of the world, but it seems that a layer of my white noise is gone. There’s no open link to the other side of the world, no comforting presence to be found.
How can such a simple thing mean so very much? How does a soft glow bring such beautiful security and tenderness? It feels strange to go without it.
With or without the light, tonight I will close my eyes and dream soft dreams of him, as I often do.
My long distance relationship has a way of changing my thought process.
These days I have trouble deciding to go to sleep. It’s 1 a.m. for me and 6 a.m. for him. Our webcams are on. I’m comforted by the way he turns and sighs in his sleep, as if the distance had fallen away and I could roll over to find him there next to me. If I could only stay up a couple more hours, I would be awake when he gets up. But 4 a.m. is so very late and there is always something to do tomorrow. Instead I will turn my speakers up and wake whenever he makes a noise. Each time I look, the screen will be lighter, parts of the room appearing slowly in the faint sunlight. The shadows will fall back little by little, casting the light of day into my night covered world. I will hear him when he rustles his way out of bed. It will still be dark in the small hours before daylight and I will stumble to the computer to say goedemorgen as he apologizes for waking me, as if it hadn’t been my plan from the start. I will stumble back into bed as he goes for breakfast. I will sleep while he goes to class. If I sleep too late his classes will be nearly finished. By noon he will be home. He will eat his supper while I eat a late lunch. His day will end before it’s dark in my world. I will stay up for hours while he sleeps, accomplishing the things I never seem to get done while he’s awake. I will make a hard decision to sleep again.
Every morning your world shines into mine, the same way you bring light into my life.
I was talking to a friend today, who confirmed something I knew but didn’t want to admit. I have a travel blog where I go to Belgium, talked about grocery shopping and then don’t post again until the trip was basically over. For those of you just joining me here, that was three whole fucking months.
I feel justified in saying that I stopped blogging so that I could better enjoy my trip. I was overwhelmed in a land where I didn’t know the language. Ask my boyfriend, I spent a fair portion of my trip in tears because I didn’t know how to order my own food or ask the cashier a question in Dutch. (I could have asked in English, but I felt SUPER guilty about being THAT foreigner.) In retrospect I should have spent time writing, but I didn’t know how to balance moderately wildly exploring the big bad world with settling down to write. But I tell you what, here’s where I make it up to you.
Starting from where I left off, we’re going to talk about my trip! First stop: ANTWERP!
I’m taking a break from writing about travel to address something that’s really bothering me. I’m going to be up front and say something that can prove to be extremely controversial on the internet. I’m kind of a feminist. I believe that people should be treated equally, that women shouldn’t be treated badly because they’re women and that men shouldn’t fell less like men because they have feelings. I believe that the idea of fake gamer girls is a virus to the geek community and that geek men are wrongly portrayed in the media as fat, ugly, antisocial monsters.
Most importantly to today’s topic is that I believe that harassing anyone for any reason is wrong. My boyfriend brought this article to my attention today, knowing that I would have interest in it. Long story short, this article talks about the ongoing harassment towards Gamespot editor Carolyn Petit over her review of Grand Theft Auto Five. She released her review about the game stating that she LOVED IT. She also spent 30 seconds of the video saying that she found the game profoundly misogynistic and scored the game at a 9.0 out of 10.0. At last look there are over 21,000 comments on the page, many of them filled with the most intense bile I have ever read on the internet. This is profoundly not okay.
I should absolutely be sleeping, but no matter what time of night it is or how tired I am; late night is when I’m most productive.
Last week I wrote a post about why not learning Dutch was the one regret I had during my summer away. It only seems right that I talk a bit more about the steps I’m taking to right that wrong.
Coming home after traveling sucks. There’s no sense in sugar coating it to look better than it is. Coming home is confusing and frustrating for yourself and for everyone around you. I’ve been home for a little over two weeks and I’m still coming to terms with it. Continue reading
Something kind of amazing happened today.
My boyfriend is a gamer. I’m not talking about a North American variety gamer that plays all day and wishes he was a pro. My boyfriend played with and later managed the Antwerp Aces, a Belgian pro gaming team. I’ve seen videos where people call him a legend and forums where fans beg him to admin competitions. He lived and breathed video games for most of his life and still has an intense passion for them. He doesn’t compete anymore, but he’s on top of the amazing new things to hit the video game industry.
Long story short, he’s nerdy and I love it. Continue reading
I’ve been researching all night. I’ve been flopping back and forth about my life and my future. It’s too hard, maybe I can’t do it. What if it doesn’t work out? Honestly, whatever. I’ve done with this lack of self confidence. I used to have a proverbial fuck ton of confidence and I’ve got the awards to prove it. It’s time to buck up and claim my future.
PS. This motivation only ever happens at night. Godverdomme!
I was in Europe for 90 days. Before I left home, I knew that the mother language of my home base in Belgium was Dutch, specifically the Flemish dialect. I poured over books, websites and Rosetta Stone with great ambition, sure that I would know enough Flemish to get by for a summer in Belgium. This lasted a few weeks. Native Belgians and friends who had traveled the area told me that almost everyone could speak English. I stopped studying, comfortable in the fact that I would be just fine and learn as I went.